


Get It Right

by sangha



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Catholic Steve Rogers, Drag, Established Relationship, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Light Angst, M/M, Old geezers in love, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Black Panther (2018), Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Rimming, Switch Bucky, Switch Steve, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, Wakanda, Wedding Night, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 12:38:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14811528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangha/pseuds/sangha
Summary: He's been sweet on Steve for as long as he can remember. It's as natural as breathing to Bucky. He reckons a life without Steve wouldn't be much of a life at all.---Or: a tale of two weddings, nearly 80 years apart.





	Get It Right

**Author's Note:**

> This has got to be the softest thing I've ever written.

He's been sweet on Steve for as long as he can remember. It's as natural as breathing to Bucky. He reckons a life without Steve wouldn't be much of a life at all.

He's never been much for religion, he may be Jewish on his ma's side and Irish-Catholic on his dad's side but his parents fixed a compromise to raise him with no God at all. But Stevie was, and as it is, he spends every Sunday morning in church. The first time Bucky kisses him, when Bucky is a dumb 14 year old, Stevie just a year younger, Steve goes in a panic. God wouldn't approve, he says. But you're the sweetest guy I ever known, Bucky says. I just wanna be sweet on my guy, he says. It can't be so bad if you're good, he says. Steve fixes him with a look but doesn't argue. From that moment on, Bucky is sure to kiss on him as often as he can get away with, always telling Stevie he's his best guy.

Used to be they'd have to sneak around, back when Steve still lived with his momma. But tuberculosis is a hell of a thing and Bucky still thanks God every day that his Stevie didn't catch it, even if he doesn't much believe in God.

It’s not easy to move in with Steve. He’s always been a spitfire and stubborn as hell, even on his best days. But Bucky wants this more than breathing, and he knows Steve can’t survive by himself anyhow. Bucky isn’t saying that to his face - he ain’t got a death wish. But what with Steve falling ill every winter and sometimes in the summer too, he needs help to cover the rent. Not like it’s a great sacrifice to Bucky. He gave his heart and soul to Steve before he knew good and well what love was, what’s rent compared to that?

They find a place together and it ain’t much but it’s theirs. They have two separate beds, but they only use the one. Good thing you’re not a big fella, Bucky says to Steve, we wouldn’ta fit in this bed otherwise. It’s a tight fit as is, but Bucky ain’t got a problem snuggling up to Steve.

Steve goes all quiet sometimes and Bucky knows he’s thinking about what they’ve been up to, about what Steve’s been taught in church. He sleeps in the other bed sometimes, but he always comes back to Bucky after a short while, making up for it in kisses and declarations of love. He’ll hold Bucky’s face in his hands, his eyes bluer than the sky, and Bucky can’t hold a grudge against him like that. He doesn’t rightly know what to do about these fits of panic. Not like he can go asking for advice. Steve isn’t much for talking, anyhow. Bucky’s the one always running his mouth, letting Steve in on his every thought. Well, except about this, that is.

Their neighbors think they’re just a couple of regular fellas, thinking Bucky is some sort of heroic type for helping that poor Rogers kid out. But the truth is, Steve is the one who saved him, with scraped knuckles and bloodied lips, giving Bucky something good to fight for. They gotta be quiet at night though, on those nights when Steve isn’t so prickly and will let Bucky be sweet on him. They always make sure to put their mattress on the floor, their bed springs so loud they could wake anybody from the dead. Steve whacked him on the head more than once cause he was being too loud. You want Mrs. Davies to hear? he says, all irritated. He grins at Steve. Gotta give my mouth something else to do then, Bucky says. Steve rolls his eyes at him but kisses him all the same. So now Steve kisses Bucky through all of it, just to keep him quiet, though it doesn’t seem Steve minds all that much. And if Bucky played up the noises a little to convince Steve to kiss a little more, well, nobody else gotta know about that.

Bucky reckons this sneaking around isn’t helping Steve. His guy was never much for the dance halls, but this is different, he promises. He found this place a little while back, but Steve came down with a bad cold, so they had to wait. Steve is grumbling about it, but Bucky thinks he looks cute anyway. The bar is filled with fellas just like them, some of them dressed up like gals so pretty Bucky’s sure they could step outside this bar and everyone would call them ma’am and miss without question. Steve gives him a questioning look. What kind of place is this, Buck? he asks. Bucky, by way of answering, takes Steve by the hand and leads him to the dancefloor, where some couples are real cozy already. Gonna teach you how to dance, doll, Bucky says. Steve clenches his jaw in that way of his, but Bucky takes Steve’s arms and places them around his neck, his own hands coming up to frame Steve’s waist. Just follow my lead, he says. Easy as anything, he says. It only takes half a song for Steve to move closer and rest his cheek against Bucky’s chest. Another song and they’re kissing, in full view of everyone in the bar.

It works for a while, going to this bar and dancing and necking a little and sometimes doing a little more than that in the restrooms, Steve always turning a delicious shade of red when Bucky drags him to the stalls and drops to his knees. They talk to other people in the bar too, and he knows the more Steve likes these folks, the less likely he is to see the devil in what they’re doing. But one night, when they’re asleep in their beds, the bar gets raided by the police and it’s shut down. Their friends took a beating from the cops and Bucky can see the two warring sides of Steve: the one that’s filled with righteous anger for these cops, and the one that fears maybe his gut been right all along and this was some divine retribution. He doesn’t touch Bucky for a long while.

The anniversary of Sarah Rogers’ death breaks this cursed spell between them. Bucky comes home from his shift and Steve approaches him, hugs him tightly. I’ve been so stupid, he says. You’re the only thing I got left and I treat you like dirt. I don’t know what you’re still doing with me, I don’t deserve someone as good as you, he says. Bucky pulls out of the hug and fixes him with a stare. Now you listen, Steven Grant Rogers, Bucky says. I ain’t ever gonna leave you, not unless you want me to. You’re stuck with me, to the end of the line. But you damn near made me lose my mind, closing off like that, he says. I love you and I don’t know what I gotta do to prove to you that ain’t a twisted thing, he says. Steve’s bottom lip is trembling. Bucky runs his thumb over it, considering Steve. He’s the prettiest guy Bucky ever laid eyes on. An idea comes to him, wild and crazy. You wanna make it up to me? he asks. Marry me, he says, before the more thinking part of his brain can talk him out of it. You know we can’t, Steve says. Sure we can, Bucky says. You’re prettier than half the gals in Brooklyn. We dress you up real nice, get you some makeup for those pretty eyes and lips of yours, a wig with pretty blonde curls to go with it, he says. God himself couldn’t object to that, he says. Jesus Christ, Steve says. That’s blasphemy, Bucky says. Steve laughs for the first time in weeks. What do you say, doll? Bucky asks. 

They have to save up for all that stuff and with winter around the corner, it’s gonna take a while, but Bucky wants the best for his guy. Steve grumbles he ain’t no dame and how come he gotta be the one wearing the dress anyhow? Bucky tells him he would gladly wear a dress for Stevie, but nature’s made them so that Steve is just the more believable gal, and that ain’t Bucky’s fault.

By the following summer, they’ve got everything they need. Some of their friends from the bar help Stevie with his makeup and creating some more curves in his body, for believability and all that. Bucky likes him better without them, but Steve will always be pretty to him. Bucky doesn’t see him during these preparations, as is proper. They tell the priest they don’t have a family anymore, which for Steve is true enough. And Bucky’s folks moved back to Indiana a while back, so they’re all they got right now. They couldn’t go to Steve’s regular church, seeing how they might still recognize him, so they’re in some small church just outside the city, where neither of them are likely to set foot again. His Stevie is so stunning Bucky barely hears a word the priest says, not until it’s time to repeat their vows anyway. The rings Bucky got aren’t worth much but he likes them all the same. Plain and elegant and though they can’t wear them in public, Bucky wants to wear his every night when he goes to sleep, Steve by his side. The priest tells Bucky he may kiss the bride and he does, kissing his Stevie right in front of the priest and God himself. 

No matter what happens to them now, Bucky knows there’s a record of Stephanie Greta Rogers marrying James Buchanan Barnes on 21 June 1939. 

Steve has to change before they get home, and for all his earlier grumbling, he looks disappointed to have to take it all off now. Bucky takes hold of Steve’s bony hips. I like you better without those curves anyway, he says. You better, Steve says, before kissing him quiet.

This is their first night as a married couple, and isn’t that a thing? God, but Bucky wishes he could declare his love for Steve to every living soul. As it is, he’s gotta content himself with what he’s got. Bucky puts the mattress on the floor and lays Steve out on it, all gentle, kisses his mouth, jaw, neck, down to his chest, to that big beat-up heart of his. He remembers the first time they did this, it felt like he was unlocking the secrets to the universe. They’d fooled around before, necking turning into wandering hands and mouths, but the first time he felt Steve’s body open up around him was something else. Of course he’d gone and ruined it and gone off in ten seconds flat, but he made it up to Steve, first with his fingers and mouth and then, when his body was ready again, he tried again, by which time Steve was sweating and moaning sweetly underneath him and Bucky swore he’d never seen a prettier sight than that. Steve’s hands tangle in Bucky’s hair by the time he takes Steve in his mouth, fingers already traveling lower, not pushing, just exploring. He takes his time with it, they both have the day off tomorrow, no need to rush. The world can wait for them. This is his husband opening up beneath him. They move together in the June heat, sweat pooling between their bodies. Steve suddenly gets that fire in his eyes and says he wants to do something different. He directs Bucky to sit with his back against the wall and sinks down again in Bucky’s lap. If Bucky thought Steve underneath him was a sight to see, it’s nothing compared to this. His hands are free to touch Steve wherever he wants, the gold band on his left hand glistening in the pale night light against Steve’s skin. You’re so beautiful, he says. My husband, he says. Thought I was your wife, Steve says, slightly out of breath. Nah, Bucky says, you’re my husband. And I’m yours, he says.

* 

Steve makes his way back to Wakanda as fast as he can. It’s been so long since he’s seen Bucky, he can feel the weight of it in his bones. And even when he did see him, they didn’t have much time to catch up or to find out how much Bucky remembers exactly. They didn’t have much time for anything besides fighting and quick touches and fumblings and isn’t that the way it’s always gone with the two of them? Bucky is waiting for him at the lab, he’s been told. The second he sees him he doesn’t hesitate, kisses Bucky in front of everyone there and he doesn’t give a good goddamn anymore if anyone has anything to say about it.

Being in Wakanda is a little like living in a dream, Steve imagines. Nobody bothers them the first couple of days and they take their time relearning each other. Steve’s gotta go back to work eventually, but for now, they can take their time. He’ll come back to see Bucky, seeing how Bucky isn’t ready to join Steve on any missions yet. Bucky is better, but he’s still healing. Hydra did more than just put triggers in his head and there’s some things not even Shuri can fix. But his guy is trying and he smiles like he means it again and for all of Hydra’s efforts to turn him into a killing machine, he’s just as sweet as Steve remembers him. The world has done its damnedest to change the both of them, but it could never change what they’ve got between them. There’s not a soul alive who knows Steve better than Bucky does, and same goes the other way around. And even if they gotta sift through Bucky’s memories together to untangle them all, it doesn’t change the fact that Bucky can read Steve’s face like they never spent any time apart.

Turns out, Bucky remembers a lot. It’s just that the order of events got a little screwed up in his head, but he’s figuring it out. Back when Steve first found him, in that apartment in Bucharest, he hadn’t asked which parts Bucky remembered, too afraid of hearing the answers. But he remembers their wedding and of course, he’s gotta embarrass Steve by telling him he remembers just how pretty Steve looked, too. I wish we coulda had our picture taken, Bucky says. I wonder if they still got those records somewhere, he says. So Steve makes a call to that church and sure enough, they’re still registered as a married couple there. But it wasn’t real, Steve says. Sure seemed real to me, Bucky says. It’s not my name on those papers, Steve says. You wanna get it right this time? Bucky asks, and God, but Steve has never been able to deny him anyhow.

I don't know what happened to my wedding ring, Bucky says. I wore it around my neck that day, but I figure Hydra took it, he says. Steve frowns when he tells him this. Hydra has already taken so much from Bucky. I don't know where mine is either, he says. I had it with me when, he says. When you crashed the plane, Bucky finishes for him. They don’t need anything fancy, never have. What they want more than anything is for wedding bands to remind them of the originals, so maybe they can pretend they were never lost, and neither were all those years along with them.

There's no Catholic priest in Wakanda, or a rabbi, for that matter. But Steve doesn't feel so strongly about the church anymore anyway. He’s been gradually losing God. Several wars and aliens falling from the sky will do that to a guy, he figures. He believes the universe bends toward good though. He has to. The universe brought Bucky back to him not once, not twice, but three times. The universe, despite its cruelty, has been kind to their love. They don’t need a church to confirm that. T'Challa, being the king, can marry them and offers as soon as Bucky lets slip to Shuri that they’re planning a wedding. All told, it’s not that different from their first wedding, except they’re both wearing suits this time. Them being a coupla sentimental old geezers, as Bucky put it, they chose the same date. Shuri acts as witness, but there’s nobody else in attendance. They don’t have much of a need to make this into a big event. They just want there to be an official record that says Steven Grant Rogers married James Buchanan Barnes on 21 June 2017. 

The biggest difference is they get to write their own vows this time. We're both men out of time, Bucky says. But the universe keeps finding ways to bring us back together, no matter what happens. There isn’t a war big enough to come between us. If that ain't proof that the universe approves, I don't know what is, he says. I think your God is a whole lot kinder than you were raised to believe and the world might be a whole lot crueler, he says. But we got each other, to the end of the line.

Steve’s known for a long time that Bucky’s got a way with words, but this knocks the wind out of him all the same. He's at a loss for words until he remembers his own vows. I was never good with words, he says. Bucky was always the wordsmith between the two of us, as you can tell, he says. Shuri snorts but she’s got tears running down her cheeks, too. The first time we did this, I was scared out of my mind, he says. Scared of loving you, scared that the priest might find us out, that God might smite us right there in that tiny church, or maybe that someone would see us as we got rid of the makeup and the wig and the dress in that alley, he says. We were just a couple of idiots back then and maybe we still are. But now that I’ve gone through losing you three times, I can say I don’t have a reason to be scared of loving you anymore, he says. And now that we’re finally sealing this union the right way, I hope I never have to lose you again.

Bucky's got a place in the city, but he comes back to the hut whenever he needs some time to think and get away from it all, or so he said to Steve. He wanted to come back here, for their second wedding night. Steve figures it reminds him more of their first wedding night, the hut more like their flimsy apartment in Brooklyn than Bucky's current apartment. Steve doesn't mind. It feels more like privacy anyway, with no neighbors right on the other side of the apartment walls. Even if Steve knows every place in Wakanda is soundproofed, his gut is still stuck in 1940 sometimes and doesn’t quite believe it. As they make their way to the hut, Steve takes Bucky’s right hand, the ring being on that hand - I want to feel it on my skin, he said - and feels its presence there against his own ring on his left hand. At a glance, they really look the same. This time they could afford to get an engraving, though. _To the end of the line SGR - JBB 06-21-2017._

Inside the hut, Bucky appraises him. You don’t look like you aged a day, he says. I got crow’s feet, but you look untouched by time, he says. Steve lets Bucky run his hand over his cheeks, his lips, his jaw. Time’s funny with us, isn’t it? Bucky says. We never did figure out how to do time right, he says. Steve says nothing, he knows Bucky will get to the point eventually. Never properly let you take the time to pick me apart. Not like I did with you, he says. He looks up at Steve through his lashes, and for all this time in this new body of his, he’s still not used to Bucky having to look up at him. I want you to, tonight, Bucky says. Bucky only ever asked for it when he wanted to forget all about the war going on around him. The few times they did things the other way around, it had to be rushed. They were in a warzone, liable to get caught any time. Turned out if Bucky was loud when he was doing Steve, it was ten times worse when Steve did him. It wasn't just that his moans were loud enough to alert any German in a thirty mile radius to their position. It was also that he ran his mouth even worse than usual. If he didn't have a pillow or something of the like to bite on, they'd be in big trouble. The Howlies surely knew what they were up to, regardless. Morita caught them once, Bucky leaning up against a tree, pants and underwear down around his mid-thighs, head thrown back, hands in Steve’s hair, who was on his knees in front of Bucky, and it could hardly be misconstrued what they were doing. They went and talked to Morita as soon as they were both presentable again, Steve about the color of a ripe tomato. I don’t really care what it is you do, Morita said. Just don’t get us killed, he said. Steve kept that promise, he supposes. Bucky was the only one who died, and he couldn’t even stay dead. But this time, Bucky isn’t asking because he wants to forget. He’s asking because he wants to remember.

He gets Bucky to lie on his front, kisses the scarred skin around his shoulder before moving down the column of his spine. Bucky is already squirming underneath him. He’s not used to this kind of attention and Steve silently curses himself for not doing this decades ago. Well, at least they have time now. He can see it stretching out in front of him, the two of them taking time until they finally look as old as they feel. When Steve gets to the center of him and lavishes him with attention there through kisses and soft licks, Bucky keens. Steve keeps at it, trying to keep Bucky from moving too much with one hand on his hip, while the other keeps him spread open. In between his moaning, Bucky begins running his mouth again, and God, how Steve has missed this. How come you could keep quiet when I did this to you, Christ, Steve, he says. Good thing we never did this before, no way to keep the volume down like this, we woulda lost the war for sure, he says. Steve resolves to make his guy come like this, is sure he can do it, what with the way Bucky is already rutting against the sheets, and sure enough, no more than five minutes later, Bucky tenses and then slumps into the bed. Steve kisses his way back up Bucky’s spine and lies down on top of him, confident Bucky can take his entire weight, kissing his neck all the while. Once Bucky’s breathing has calmed down enough, he grabs the bottle of lube that Bucky had the foresight to bring to the hut before the wedding. He opens Bucky up all slow and by now Bucky’s hair is sticking to his forehead and his neck and sweat has pooled in the divot in his lower back and Steve wouldn’t have it any other way. He coaxes Bucky to the edge and over again with his fingers, determined to make the most of what their bodies are capable of now that they’ve got time. These bodies may have been made for war, but not tonight.

Bucky is boneless after two orgasms, his eyes glazed over and he looks at Steve like the whole universe just opened up for him. Maybe it did. Steve turns him on his side, Bucky going willingly, while Steve fixes himself to Bucky’s back. He goes in slowly, knowing how long it’s been for Bucky. He places a hand on Bucky’s chest to feel his breaths. He keeps his movements slow, languid. They’re touching from shoulders to toes, Steve stroking Bucky with that same languid rhythm. You're taking me straight to heaven, sweetheart, Bucky says. Steve leans forward to kiss his neck. Stay with me a while instead, he says. Steve whispers in Bucky’s ear, tells him how good he is, how good he’s been to Steve his whole life, and if he could choose one moment to suspend in amber for all eternity, this would be it, the moment when Bucky’s body seizes up and lets go once again, no tension left in any of his muscles. He reaches back for Steve, pulls him in closer so he can kiss him. Come on, he says, inside me. Steve kisses him back ferociously. The war prevented them from that particular intimacy, what with the cleanup taking too much time and it being too conspicuous. Steve finally releases the tension he’s been holding and spills inside of Bucky.

They drift off for a while, the heat around them and the exhaustion in their muscles enough to put anybody to sleep. Steve doesn’t know how many hours have passed when he wakes up, Bucky sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching his arms and neck. Steve plasters himself to Bucky's back. He lets his hand travel across the planes of Bucky's chest, lower, lower, stroking him slowly, but with intent. Bucky sighs softly. You got plans there? he asks. Steve hums. He knows what he wants. He moves to Bucky's front and settles in his lap. Oh, sweetheart, Bucky says. Come here, he says. Like we did then? Steve asks. And God knows it’s different now, Steve about three times the size he was then, Bucky with as many scars as years on him, but if he closes his eyes and just listens to the sound of Bucky’s voice, feels Bucky’s body, it’s enough to bring him right back to their shoddy apartment in Brooklyn, 1939. For you, sweetheart, always, Bucky says. Anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, as always. I know this is a little different from my usual style, but if you made it to the end and enjoyed it, please know that comments and kudos sustain me :).


End file.
